A Moral Dilemma

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Brett wonders if he should reveal his best friend's cheating.
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Ashley and I, Brett Pierson, first met in third grade. For some reason we were always friends, even though we were quite different and usually hung out with different crowds. I was more of an introvert – although I consider myself an ambivert – while she definitely is an extrovert. Both of us are decent looking although we'd never make it as one of the "beautiful people," and we have average builds.

Although Ashley and I went to the same elementary school, same High School, same college, and same graduate school, and are the same age, and got jobs less than a mile apart in the same city after we completed our graduate studies, we only went out on two real dates – once in High School, and once in college. We only kissed romantically three times (yes I counted). Although we always enjoyed each other's company and had good times on our two dates, either because we didn't want to ruin our friendship, or because there just didn't appear to be any real flair or chemistry, neither of us pursued a true romantic relationship. It seemed that we enjoyed it more when we were in groups, or doing non-romantic things together.

Since we've known each other since we were eight years old, we know a lot about each other, and have confided things over the years that we would never tell anyone else. We often were sounding boards for each other, especially when it came to issues with the opposite sex. Also, we really did have each other's backs. There were literally dozens of times that she helped me out when I needed it, and I reciprocated, including, but not limited to, advising what others were saying about us, and pitching in on yardwork or house work when overwhelmed. Each of us also did one thing that "wasn't entirely legal" for the other person. It became natural to help each other and when we had a problem we turned to each other first, before our parents, siblings, or other friends.

Whenever Ashley and I met in person or talked on the phone it was like a beam of sunshine hit on a cloudy day. I used that analogy once to her, and she wholeheartedly agreed. We often called each other "sunshine."

I was probably the only person on earth who actually knew Ashley's biggest secret (although others suspected). When she was a senior in college she had an affair with a young (only two years older than us) married visiting assistant professor from France by the name of Jacque. I think that she would have married him if he was willing to divorce his wife, but he wasn't. Anyway, at the start of graduate school she met Martin and they quickly became serious.

Since I was Ashley's best male friend, I was one of the groomsmen at the Ashley-Martin nuptials shortly after we finished graduate school. Not too long after that, I met my wife Janet, and we got married two years after Ashley and Martin did, and it was Ashley who threw me my bachelor party and was the only female participant.

Ashley normally didn't drink much, but the night of my bachelor party made an exception, likely in an attempt to get me drunk and to "loosen up," the only consistent complaint Ashley had about me in all of the years that I knew her. The few times that I did drink I had an extraordinarily high tolerance for booze, and never got drunk. Therefore Ashley got herself three sheets to the wind while I was still sober. When Martin – who was also there – was playing pool at one of the bars we bar-hopped to she pulled me aside and confided something to me that I don't think that she ever would have if she were sober. She was still periodically fucking Jacque.

Removing her slurred and sometimes unintelligible words, our conversation went something like this:

"How's that?" I asked.

"Well he quit academia and now is an international businessman. The first time he came to the U. S. on business he looked me up. I didn't want to fuck him, but he does it so well I couldn't help myself. He's come to the U S on business three times since then, and each time I've visited the city he has business in and we fucked for two or three nights."

"Does Martin know?"

"Hell no! He wouldn't take kindly to that."

"How are you able to get away?"

"I lie – I don't want to do it, but I want to fuck Jacque more than I don't want to lie to Martin."

"You're living dangerously, aren't you Ashley?"

"Maybe, Brett – but we only live once."

"Why are you telling me this?"

She got a big grin on her face – in fact she was grinning the entire time she was talking to me, obviously excited about her affair, but the grin got bigger. "I needed someone to confide in because no one else knows, and it's more fun to have someone know your secret than to keep it to yourself, and you're my longest standing friend so..."

At that point, the booze really caught up with her. She rolled her eyes, and I caught her as she collapsed. Martin and I carried her to their car and he took her home. Fortunately, the bachelor party was two days before the wedding, not just the day before, otherwise I doubt that Ashley would have made it. At the wedding she looked great, though, was her normal happy extroverted self, and didn't touch an ounce of booze at the reception.

While Ashely had apparently shrugged off not just her affair, but that she told me, it had a profound effect on me. It really bothered me. While I had always accepted Ashley as who she was and never judged her, and while she had done dozens of between nice and wonderful things for me over the previous almost twenty years that I had known her, I was definitely not a fan of cheaters.

*****************

Over the next two years I was busy with my profession and establishing and persevering in a loving relationship with my wife Janet, so that even though I saw Ashley at least once a month, and more often three or four times, and we talked on the phone weekly, her affair drifted into the back of my mind and I never confronted my feelings about it. She had never brought it up again after the time she was drunk, although I was certain that she was seeing Jacque when at the last minute she canceled on a party Janet and I were hosting to take a "business" trip – on the weekend – out of town.

Perhaps one reason why I never confronted myself – let alone Ashley – about her affair was because I never warmed up to Martin. He was too arrogant for me, and in my humble opinion – I hope that I wasn't being too judgmental just because Ashley was my friend – he didn't treat Ashley well. Even though Martin was not someone I liked, he was a smart detail-oriented guy; he had some sort of financial job. Inevitably, I'm sure that he found out about Jacque – or at least became suspicious enough to confront Ashley about it.

It was a shock to some of our friends when Martin and Ashley filed for divorce. She just cited "irreconcilable differences" in her comments to everyone else – though not to me. One Saturday when Janet was visiting her mother, Ashley invited me to a baseball game, and afterward we went to a park and she bared her soul.

"Martin confronted me with suspicions that I was having an affair. He suspected that it was with the same guy as in college – I guess one of my so-called college friends told him about her suspicions. I denied it, but when I did I realized that the love I had had for Martin had almost evaporated, and that fucking Jacque six or seven days a year was more important to me than staying married to Martin. Divorce looked good to me. Does that make me fucked-up, Brett?"

"Ashley, you know that I've never judged you. What I do know is that regardless of whether anyone thinks that you're fucked up, you have to do what you have to do. I consider your relationship with Jacque something that is likely to cause you great pain in the future, and I certainly don't approve of it, but it's not for me to say whether or not it means that you're fucked-up."

"But what you're saying, sunshine, is that you'd never have an affair?" Ashley asked with uncharacteristic meekness.

"That's one thing that I'm saying. However, like I said, I'm not judging you. I don't like it, but I love you as a friend and – like always – will stick by you."

We talked a little more, she eventually got a rueful smile on her face, and we concluded our serious talk with "You always will stick by me – you have since third grade – won't you?"

"You bet sunshine!" I replied with a happy smile.

She gave me a friendly peck on the lips then we went to a country-western restaurant that had dancing. Even though we both had no country-western rhythm, we ended up having a good time doing the Texas two-step and the schottische, the latter a dance that I had never heard of before let alone done. By the end of the evening we were both perspiring and laughing our asses off.

Ashley needed a little propping up during her divorce proceedings and afterward, but fortunately things had not been too acrimonious so – with the help of yours truly, Janet, and some of her other female friends – she came out of it just fine.

*****************

Ashley's personality did not allow her to be without male companionship for too long, however. It was only six months after her divorce was final that she started seriously dating Peter – a guy that she met at a singles event. Peter was much different than Martin. Peter was a humble yet confident, gregarious guy. He was a runner, like I was, and shared with me a keen interest in tennis and volleyball, sports that neither of us were particularly good in, but really enjoyed playing and watching. I hosted Peter's bachelor party after Ashley accepted his marriage proposal. Since it was the second for each (Peter's first wife had died in a car crash) they got married within two weeks of when Peter popped the question in a small simple civil ceremony, although at the reception there were at least seventy five people. I was Ashley's witness at the wedding, Peter's sister his.

There was – to me – one disturbing aspect of the Peter-Ashley nuptials. Ashley made an impromptu out-of-town two night trip in the two weeks between the proposal and the ceremony. By the fact that she didn't look me in the eye when she told me about the trip I knew what it was for – Jacque was back in the country. That upset me a great deal.

Peter and Ashley seemed to be happily married so I put her affair with Jacque in the back of my mind. However, over the ensuing three years some things started happening that occasionally brought it to the forefront, even though my very friendly relationship with Ashley never changed.

–I became pretty friends with Peter. We had some enjoyable outings together sans wives.

–Ashley and I started seeing more of each other, and talking more often on the phone, than we had at almost any time in our lives after we had completed our schooling. It was rare when I didn't get a half dozen texts and a phone call from Ashley every day, and we met for lunch, or for an outing, with or without spouses, at least once a week. Also we both joined the same health club – Peter and Janet were members of another club closer to where they worked – and we worked out at the same time two or three times a week. Ashley beamed even more than previously whenever we met and constantly solicited my good-will although that certainly wasn't necessary in view of our "best friend" status. We called each other "sunshine" at least once per meeting.

–Both Janet and Peter, individually and many months apart, asked me – almost out of the blue – whether if I knew that someone I knew was cheating on their spouse if I would say anything about it. After the initial shock in both cases – which I hopefully hid, although I'm not sure that I'm that good of an actor – I asked a lot of questions in return and concluded it by saying "Wow; that's a tough question. It would really depend greatly on the particulars. Who the parties were, what relationship I had with them, whether the affair was serious or a one night stand, whether the cheater had any remorse, lots of things. Why do you ask? Are you in that situation now?" Both Peter and Janet replied that it was a hypothetical that another friend had asked them, and not an actual situation; I didn't know whether or not to believe that.

–Ashley made comments at one dinner with just she, me, Peter, and Janet, that either required me to cover for her – make believe that she was somewhere else when I was virtually positive that she was with Jacque – or expose her. I covered for her, but did not like being put in that situation one bit.

–After the situation in the previous paragraph, and after I had helped Ashley out with a personal problem not involving cheating, I took her to lunch and made it clear that I did not like having to cover for her, especially since I was fond of Peter and had never liked Jacque.

In the lunch meeting mentioned in the previous paragraph, Ashley started crying. In all the years that I had known her I only saw her cry once before. She calmed down enough for us to exit the restaurant without a scene, but then started sobbing on the sidewalk. I hustled her to a public park about a block and a half away and sat her down on a bench. While she was hard to understand, I got the gist of what she was saying, which went something like this (sobs and inaudible words removed for clarity):

"I'm sorry that I put you in an uncomfortable position, Brett. Right now I'm going through the most difficult period of my life. I'm all fucked up."

"What's the matter, Ashley?"

"My outlooks on many things are changing. Things that I always thought I'm questioning; relationships that I have are changing; I have a couple of secrets preying on my mind; work that I used to enjoy I no longer do, and things I didn't enjoy I now do. In general, I feel completely fucked up."

"Is there something that I can do to help?"

"Yes, but it's too much to ask even of you, my best friend for the last twenty two years."

"Not quite," I smiled trying to lighten the mood somewhat. "It will be twenty two just about the time that you turn thirty three months from today. Now what could possibly be too much for you to ask me to help with?"

"Brett – I'm not going to fuck up your life like mine is being fucked up just because my brain is changing. I promise that I won't put you in any situation where you have to cover for me again."

With that – and before I could stop her or question her further – she wiped away her tears, gave me a quick peck on the lips, and took off like a bat out of hell.

Talk about confused?

So that left me to struggle with my moral dilemma. Should I tell Peter about Jacque? If I did should I warn Ashley first? Would Peter and Ashley be able to overcome it and ultimately have an even stronger marriage? Would they immediately divorce, such as happened with Martin and Ashley even though Martin didn't have actual knowledge of her affair, just suspicion? Would it destroy my relationship with my closest friend of almost twenty two years?

I had no one to talk with about this issue. While Janet and I shared a lot, this was something way too personal and transcended my relationship with Janet. So in the modern world, what does one do?

What I did was – anonymously – get on the Internet in chat rooms, web sites, even Twitter, and propounded my question after giving bare bones information so that none of the real parties could ever be identified. What I got was either unhelpful, insulting, or garbage. Those responses that were at least somewhat thoughtful were split almost evenly between a) tell Peter immediately, b) tell Peter after warning Ashley and urging her to confess, c) say nothing, and d) break up my friendship with Ashley. The latter, option d), was NOT going to happen because she was an important part of my life, but there was no help about which of the other three was the best course of action. I was more confused than ever.

Inertia meant that I let things shuffle along until just before Ashley's birthday. Peter had been planning a surprise party for Ashley and several months earlier had asked if I would mind if he could get Janet's perspective on things. Why he bothered to ask me, I don't know, and of course I said yes. He and Janet got together often to make plans. But then guilt started to eat at me; he was planning this party for Ashley totally clueless about Jacque.

I decided that I had to act, and I chose option b). On a beautiful day Ashley and I went for a walk in the park and had a simple picnic lunch. She was warm and fuzzy, more so than I'd ever seen her, truly the epitome of "sunshine." After eating I swallowed hard then started my painful talk.

"Ashley; there's something I need to do, that I need to warn you about."

"What, Brett?" she asked with an expectant look.

"Well, you know that I've kept your secret about Jacque, and haven't told Peter; but I'm having pangs of guilt about that. I...I've come to be friendly with Peter, much more so than with Martin, and I need to tell him. I...I hope that you will first, so that I can avoid it...and I hope that it doesn't break up your marriage, but the guilt is eating away at me."

To my surprise Ashley didn't have a hissy fit, start crying, get angry, try to change my mind, or react in any other way that I thought that she might. She smiled.

"Wh...wh...why are you smiling?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Because you've just given me the opening for straightening out my fucked-up life."

"How's that?"

"Remember that day that I started crying in the restaurant and we came to this same park – the bench just over there," she said, pointing to a secluded bench about thirty meters away.

"Yeah..." I hesitantly responded.

"Remember that I told you that my outlooks on many things had changed, and particularly relationships that I had, and that I felt completely fucked up?"

"Yeah – I do. How is that relevant?"

"Well...I see no option but to hit you with it. You have many, many good qualities, but you are about the least perceptive guy I've ever met."

Her smile faded and she took a deep breath, and then blurted out "Peter and Janet are having an affair, I broke it off with Jacque for good months ago, and my friendship with you has morphed into a powerful, romantic, love."

Any one of those three things, especially the first and the last, could have shell-shocked me. Being hit with all three at once was like being bombed by a squadron of B-52s. After a pause that had to have lasted five minutes, with Ashley making intense eye contact with me the entire time, I had a brilliant reply.

"What?"

"I know that you heard me, Brett, because you almost fried your circuits. Which of the three do you want to discuss first?"

"Uh...OK...let's do the easiest one? You broke it off with Jacque?"

"Yeah; I realized a good four or five months ago that I was starting to look at things differently. I realized that I was, in fact, NOT in love with Jacque, but had always just been fascinated by him. I realized that he wasn't my soul mate like I had deluded myself – that someone else was. The last time I saw him I wouldn't have sex with him even though he said – for the first time – that he'd divorce his wife to be with me. I told him 'no thanks' and haven't returned one communication from him since, and won't."

"OK..." was my brilliant reply.

"Let's talk about number three, now, shall we?" Ashley said. She scooted over from where she was kneeling and sat right next to me on the blanket that we had spread out on the lawn. She stroked the side of my face and then gave me the fourth romantic kiss that we'd ever shared in our life. "Over the course of the last six months I've come to realize that I love you, Brett. Not just like a friend like we've maintained over the last twenty two years, but real, true, romantic love. Maybe I always had it under the surface. I do know that without exception I always felt great when I was around you, and that has not been the case with anyone else including Jacque, Martin and Peter. You are the sunshine of my life."

12